


Cherries

by makuta_tobi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1971840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makuta_tobi/pseuds/makuta_tobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a conversation on page 004475 - imported from my deviantART</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherries

Karkat groaned as he climbed on top of his recuperacoon, not worrying about falling in like last time, since he had sealed the hole in the top earlier this afternoon. It was a particularly dreadful day, but that didn't really mean anything new; to Karkat Vantas, every day was a terrible day. The dark clouds had brought with them torrents of rain that drowned the smaller fauna of Alternia that could not escape its horrific wrath and the screams of the felines and canines could be heard echoing throughout the various lawnrings that surrounded his own.

Of course, this had been happening for days, and the weather didn't really bother Karkat one bit, though he would still complain about it anyways, if asked why he was upset. In reality, a lot of things had happened recently and he was getting really fucking fed up with.

First, a good friend of his had been culled. Well, not really a good friend. In fact, the guy was a total douchebag and Karkat rarely spoke to him, but he was a good guy when it really came down to brass tacks. Still, his culling had been hard on Karkat because this troll, named Skijit, or some stupid thing, had mutant blood like Karkat. Sure, he was a bit older, almost a full solar sweep older, in fact, but it didn't help his self esteem to know that the troll with the neon orange blood had been killed in front of a large population of prepubescent trolls.

This thought brought up the thought of his own mutant blood, the bright candy red that looked like something Gamzee might drink out of one of his stupid bottles while fondling his ridiculously outrageous fucking horns like the dumbass he is. Herein lied the true problem: Karkat began to think about how much he hated himself. He was always self aware enough to know that he did hate himself, but he never took too much time to think about how much he hated himself, and the thought of culling based on mutant blood color made him think about how much he honest to god hated himself. Which began an infinite loop, like those stupid fucking ~ATH programs he ran on his stupid fucking computer. 

It was simple, really. He thought about how much he hated himself, he got mad at himself for hating himself so much, then he hated himself for getting mad at himself for hating himself so much, and then he began to think of other ways to hate himself! First it was how he couldn't hack for shit (which was true), then it was how pathetic it was when it came to his preferences in films. Troll Sandler didn't make him not want to punch himself in his big, stupid ugly face anytime soon.

“What the everloving fuck?” he coughed as he felt something falling down his cheeks. He reached up and wiped the pale red liquid from his face. “Oh hell no!” he shouted, rubbing his eyes. There was no way he was going to cry, even if he was in the solitude of his respiteblock.

Aw, what the hell. If the waterworks are gonna flow, might as well let them out, rather than clog up the fucking pipes. He lay on top of the soft, purple carapace of his recuperacoon, quietly sobbing his red tears in frustration, and were it not for the fact that he had to sit up and blow his nose, he wouldn't have heard the sound of his Lusus growling down below. The rumbling sound he made was not uncommon, but it was nowhere near time to eat, and the strange guttural rumblings added a slightly different flavor to the mix of noises emanating from downstairs.

He heard a faint “click-clack” sound as his Lusus' voice calmed down, seemingly done with his fit over whatever it was that had bothered him. But what was that other noise?

The answer came quickly as his door was flung open to reveal the slender figure of his best friend, and subsequent redrom crush, Terezi.

“Oh, Karkles!” she called out into the respiteblock in a sing-song voice. “You home?”

Karkat quickly wiped his eyes onto the long black sleeves of his shirt and somehow found a way to keep his voice from shaking, which was a motherfucking miracle in and of itself.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he practically shouted at the blind girl, who turned her attention towards him.

“Ah, there you are!” her ever-present smile was a big frightening. This was the second time that Karkat and Terezi had met in person, and it was really creepy the way she always had this sinister grin on her face, like she was planning a million ways to kill him, or to frame him for murder, or something horribly fucking ridiculous. “I was on my way to Vriska's for a little roleplaying when I thought to myself 'Karkat's a big pansy and is probably not doing anything important, so I'll go see what's up with him!' and here you are, moping about doing nothing important.”

“I... I was too doing something important!”

“Yeah right, like what, sitting on your big, grape-scented cocoon and moping about? Boo hoo.” Terezi cackled as she leaned her cane against the wall and walked up to the recuperacoon. Despite Karkat's protests, and there were many, she climbed onto the large sack with him and sat cross-legged.

At this distance, something was... interesting. Terezi's powerful nose was painting here a pretty vivid picture of what was around her, the gray skin of the troll in front of her, the purple cocoon below her, the computer, the desk... but something smelled good. Really good, like, too good to be coming from here, and yet...

A sniffle. Very subtle, but still present, Karkat raised his sleeve to his face and wiped it. Could it be-?

No. No fucking way... Really?

“Hey Karkat, what's the matter?”

Karkat was taken aback by the question, and upon looking up, even more so to see that Terezi's face had become much more serious. This wasn't a game. She was actually asking how he felt.

“Nothing's wrong, shitstain,” he retorted, mentally beating himself up for lying.

“Don't be like that, come on,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “what's going on in that little think pan of yours?”

“I was just... thinking about how much dying sucks, I guess? Like, you know, whatever, it happens to everyone, and I don't give a flying fuck, but, it's like... it can be kind of sad, you know?”

“That's dumb,” Terezi answered. “Everyone dies, but you know what? It's not like that's the end. I mean, Pucefoot has died at least twenty times since last week, but it's totally fine, because despite all the hangings and beatings, he's always okay at the end of the day.”

“Are you talking about your stupid fucking plush dragons?”

“I wasn't done yet,” she said sourly. “Anyways, the point I was getting at was that death is inevitable, but the way I see it, you can either make the best of whatever kind of fucked up life you're going to have, or you can throw it all away and maybe even make your life that much shorter.”

“Okay, well first of all, you can't see anything, and secondly...” Karkat paused for a long moment before speaking, “thanks.”

Now it was Terezi's turn to be surprised. Why would Karkat be thanking someone? Especially her? Sure, she tried to be good friends with him and all, but...

She felt something large lean on her shoulder and she needed only a moment to realize it was Karkat's head.

“I'm sorry, I just... I feel all alone...”

“You're not alone...” Terezi wrapped her arms tightly around the young troll and hugged him tight. Admittedly, this was weird, but it was better than sloppy makeout sessions on the roof, though, she admitted to herself, it would be kind of fun to fuck with Karkat by initiating such an event. She decided to put the idea in the back of her head and just savor the feeling of the troll in front of her. She couldn't make out his features without mapping them with her hands, but... she knew, he was a pretty goddamn handsome asshole, for what it's worth.

There it was again. That scent. Another sniffle, and the light touch of liquid to her shirt. Karkat leaned back and blew his nose again, and Terezi took the time to inhale deeply. This was it. The answer. She had wanted to know for so long, and here it was, finally, within her grasp.

“Dammit all, now I need to change my shirt. I'm all sweaty,” Karkat moaned. Sure, it was annoying, but it was a good kind of annoying.

“Well, I should probably get going,” Terezi said, sliding down from the purple pod and snatching up her cane. “It was nice chatting with you.”

“Same... oh, and hey! Don't you ever fucking tell anyone about what happened here, you got that? I will kill you dead if you do, you fucking batshit apeshit shittard.”

“Don't worry, I won't. I'm not stupid, god. I value our time together. See ya!”

As she walked out, Karkat swore he heard a faint “Bye, Crabdad!” followed by a low grunting noise and a shriek. Weird.

Terezi walked out of the lawn ring, out into the dark clouds. Sure, she couldn't see jack shit, but it was better than having the sun on her skin. That brought back some bad memories. As she walked in the general direction of Vriska's hive, she took a moment to lift her lightly stained shirt and inhale the scent. There it was. Faded by the black of her clothes, yes, but it was there. That sweet scent that assailed her nostrils and left her craving more.

Cherries.


End file.
